


Victoria Verse

by kiba_kai



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M, Mild Drama, MotoGP, MotoGP RPF - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiba_kai/pseuds/kiba_kai
Summary: 2016 Rossi and Marquez birthday, Marquez POV





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N : 2016 Rossi/Marquez birthday
> 
> Marquez POV

Title: Victoria Verse  
Fandom: GP  
Pairing: VRMM  
Genre: RPS, ficlet  
Rating: PG  
Warning: Boy / Boy, if it’s not your thing please don’t read.  
Note: ENG is not my first language, if you spot some mistakes please correct me.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot and writing.

Victoria Verse  
by kiba kai

.

.

.

.

Everyday is someone’s birthday.

Whether we know them or not.

.

But February 16 is his birthday.

And he doesn’t want me to know him anymore.

.

.

I heard stories…

Some of them from the media, some of them from friends, some from my advisor and some even from him.

Through the years, it’s about him and his nature for cruelties.

It’s not physical. No bodily harm done in any parts.

But mentally…

He is notorious about unforgiving traits.

.

‘Don’t hurt him.’

.

Simple as that… because he’ll hurt you more.

He’ll make you feel like you’ve done the most terrible thing in your life.

Thing that you wish you could take back. All of it.

He’ll make you know that you choose the wrong side.

…That you wish you’d better off not knowing him in the first place.

No. He won’t make people turns against you, although people will do anyway.

.

But he will forget you.

Completely.

.

Like you’re someone from a distant past.  
Or someone that he has never met before.

Someone that pass by on the street.

Someone that he dismiss so easily.

Like a grass on the sidewalk.

…a trash on the pavement.

.

.

Hating is so much better.

Hating means he still remember you, that you’re somewhere in his head, waiting for something to emerged that reminds him of you.

Hating is normal.

But this is not.

.

He’s cutting me out every way possible. All of our connections have gone, even the most private one. He even ignore questions involving me.

How long since last time that my first name or even surname rolls out from his tongue…

And when there’s unavoidable question about me, he just refer roughly…

‘The other rider’

That’s me.

I can’t listen or read those interviews anymore.

Why bother…

.

.

I still remember last year.

When he let me follow every footsteps he walk… Guiding me in every problems I met, as a rider …as a friend.

Lunch in his paddock.

Dinner under the night sky at his ranch.

Breakfast on his bed.

.

.

Nothing left but these memories.

Nothing I can do to bring him back.

.

.

I close my eyes.

Reciting those moments only sadden myself but I won’t mind…

Even if it kills me everytime but I could do this forever.

.

.

His birthday was 16th, mine was 17th.

I can’t give him any presents because he won’t take them anyway.

.

I want so much to say

‘Sorry for everything.’

But no. It’s not entirely my fault. The world knows that.

He knows that.

.

So, it just come out like this,

‘Happy Birthday.’

I take a deep breath and hit send button.

It’s 23:50 now.

Hope it’s not too late. Look at the bright side, I might be the last one saying this to him.

23:55

I’m still staring at the phone… eventhough I don’t know what I’m waiting for.

23:58

He must already read it… But choose to ignore because he don’t know who send it.

My name might not be on his list anymore.

.

I shook my head.

.

Unlike all the stories that I heard, because now I know it first hand… about how his cruelty taste like.

A bit salty.

Because the tears are coming down.

…just a little bit.

.

This is how it feels when your heart got broken.

That you’re forgotten by someone so dear.

.

So painful that you wonder how would you live from now on.

.

It’s 00:00

.

.

I lay back on my bed.

My phone slip out of reach.

.

But then it lighten up…

At 00:01

.

.

.

‘You, too.’

.

.

.

.

Fin


End file.
